


The Perfect Day

by jennaarebee



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-21
Updated: 2013-11-29
Packaged: 2017-12-30 01:02:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1012173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennaarebee/pseuds/jennaarebee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock is giving John the perfect day. Will it all go as planned?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

John

Sitting and watching this impossible man lying on his back on the worn couch with his phone held above his head-- the backlight illuminating the chiseled angles of his face-- texting god-knows-who, I felt something that I could not describe nor name tug at my gut. Sherlock took a brief reprieve from his phone and absently ran a hand through his very dark and curly hair, then went back to clicking away at his phone.

A knock came from the door. "Get that," Sherlock commanded. His hands were now steepled under his nose, symbolizing his depth of thought.

"Why don't you?" I barked, irritated with him commanding me to do things for him. I'm not his servant!

"I'm busy."

"Yeah, you look real busy," I mumbled under my breath so he wouldn't hear.

"It's Lestrade. Please don't dawdle."

I very audibly groaned and got up to let Lestrade in.

"Please co-" I began.

"We need you both. Follow me," he interrupted, then turned around and began walking away as soon as he was finished speaking.

"We'll be right there. I have something to do first," Sherlock yelled from his spot in the couch.

"What have you got in mind?" He was sitting up now, but his hands were still locked together, his fingers pressed against his lips that seemed oddly appealing-- What am I thinking? Appealing??-- and his elbows were resting on his knees.

"We're not going," he said casually.

"What?" I exploded. "He just said he needs us!"

"He doesn't need us," he replied while keeping his calm demeanor, "he just thinks he does."

Right then, Sherlock's phone rang. It was a shrill bell tone and he answered it immediately. "Hello Lestrade. You don't need us, do you? ... That's what I thought. ... I was actually just telling John that exact thing the moment before you called. ... Goodbye."

"What the hell?"

"I don't mean to say 'I told you so', but... I told you so." He got his I-have-superior-intellect smirk where one side of his mouth curls up. "Now we can get to the fun stuff!" he said as he somewhat-violently stood up.

I couldn't help but wonder if this is one of those times that his 'fun stuff' puts our lives in danger. I do love the adventure though. I never even felt this alive when I was in Afghanistan. "Umm fun stuff?"

"But of course!" he exclaimed as he grabbed his long coat and-- for lack of a better word-- dashed outside.

"But of course!" I said mockingly under my breath. He popped his head back in the room and said, "It's very rude to mock. Please refrain from doing so." And, just as fast as he was back, he was gone again.

"What the hell did I just witness?" I asked myself as I grabbed my jacket and followed Sherlock out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope y'all like this!
> 
> Also, if y'all wanna find me elsewhere:  
> YouTube: jennaarebee  
> Twitter: @jennaarebee  
> Instagram: @jennaarebee  
> Wattpad: jennaarebee  
> Tumblr: sassysoullesssammy.tumblr.com


	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock

"Sherlock!" I heard John call faintly from behind me. He should know by now that I don't slow down.

"Hurry up, John!" I called over my shoulder while still looking ahead of me. "You're going to miss the good stuff!" I had something great planned. It was a surprise to John, but I had a lot of people in on it. I was going to make this the best day of his life. And I never go out of my way to do that. For anyone. Then an almost inaudible, muffled scream interrupted my thoughts. I spun around to see John being hauled into a big black sedan with dark windows. I immediately began running towards them. The kidnapper was wearing a black ski mask and had John's mouth covered so he couldn't scream anymore. John's eyes met mine right before the door slid shut in the last hope to communicate something to me. The car began driving away the moment the door closed. I didn't know what to do. Umm... Lestrade! I'll call Lestrade!

The moment he picked up, I blurted out, "John was just kidnapped! Why is it called kidnapped...? It's not always kids... But that's not the point! John is in danger!" By the time I finished, I was yelling into the speaker.

"Okay Sherlock, just calm down. Take a few deep breaths. Just think about what you can tell me about what you saw," Lestrade said, obviously trying to keep his patience.

"I can tell you everything about what I saw. That's not the issue. The issue is that John's life could be on the line! And you're trying to CALMLY talk about this! We need to ACT!"

"As you may know, Sherlock, I am in the profession of acting upon a situation. Sometimes acting involves talking."

"Fine. Here's everything I know: We were leaving the flat and I was ahead of him and all of a sudden I heard a muffled scream. I looked back and saw him being drug into a black sedan with very dark windows by a man, judging by the relative height between him and John, five and a half feet tall. There was someone in the driver's seat but I couldn't see anything of him. The license plate was foxtrot-alpha-delta-one-zero-five-foxtrot. They drove south on Baker Street and disappeared. That is the extent of my knowledge."

"Okay, that's not much to work with but we'll do our best."

"No, you won't do your best. You will do better than your best. This is John Watson we are talking about." I was getting angrier and angrier the farther the conversation progressed, and my voice cracked as I said his name.

"Yes Sherlock, I know. But you of all people should know that we have to be realistic. If you want us to do better than our best, you're gonna have to work the case yourself." He said this delicately, as if not to offend me.

"Of course. I wouldn't have it any differently."

"Great." The situation hung in the air like a stale smell on a humid, midsummer day.

"Well, lets get started! There's no time to lose!" Then, I got a very good-- but kind of repulsing-- idea. "I will call my brother and get him to follow the van with the CCTV."

"Very well. I'll call you if I find anything."

"And I you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, I hope y'all like this! Please leave comments and kudos so I know what ya think! :)
> 
> Also, if y'all wanna find me elsewhere:  
> YouTube: jennaarebee  
> Twitter: @jennaarebee  
> Instagram: @jennaarebee  
> Wattpad: jennaarebee  
> Tumblr: sassysoullesssammy.tumblr.com


	3. Chapter 3

John

The door slid closed and I was surrounded by darkness, enveloped by black nothingness. I've never been this blind in the dark. My kidnapper touched my arm and my army instincts kicked in. Although I couldn't actually see the man, I've learned enough from Sherlock to know where he is. I saw how tall he is while there was still light, so I punched towards his crotch. I missed. The next thing I knew, my head hurt and everything went, well, blacker.

***

I woke up to a small room with wood-paneled walls and no windows. I tried standing up from the chair I was sitting in, but my hands and feet were tied to it by rough, fraying ropes, and when I tried to scream for help my mouth wouldn't open. They had taped it shut. "Damn it, Sherlock, you're putting me in danger again," I thought. But then I realized that it was worth it. Even if I died right now, it was worth it to have spent that time with him. Everything that he has put me through and everything that he might put me through in the future is all worth it.

I began looking around to figure out a way to escape. "What would Sherlock do?" I thought. I can't stand up, I didn't have a knife. My keys are in my pocket though. I just need to shimmy enough to be able to reach into my pocket and...

As I was struggling to get to my keys, a door materialized from the seemingly solid wall and a somewhat large man of similar build to the person who kidnapped me came through. He was carrying a food tray with a knife and a small piece of bread. Oh, bloody hell, he's gonna kill me. I closed my eyes so I wouldn't see anything happening. I felt him violently rip the tape off of my mouth. I opened my eyes to see him offering me the bread. I took it in my mouth and began chewing.

"Now, you're going to tell me about Sherlock Holmes, and if you refuse, well..." he said as he fiddled with the knife. When I didn't start ranting on about everything I know about Sherlock, he said, "Do you really want to find out what I'll do to you if you don't tell me what I want to hear?"

"I won't tell you anything!" I snapped.

"You have a death wish, don't you Mr. Watson?"

"No, just a conscience," I countered.

He didn't like that. "Are you saying I don't have a conscience?"

"Not directly..."

"Then you are." He slowly came forward and pressed the knife against my neck. "You will talk to me, or you'll never talk to him again." He pressed the blade a little deeper into my neck and I winced, trying not to show my pain. "What is his relation to Moriarty?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope y'all like this! Thank you for reading! I love you all :)
> 
> Social media:  
> Twitter: @jennaarebee  
> Instagram: @jennaarebee  
> YouTube: jennaarebee  
> Tumblr: castielsstocking.tumblr.com (fandom blog; will be sassysoullesssammy again on the first of the year) and jennaarebee.tumblr.com (YouTube blog)


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